Only the Un-enlisted Can Know Peace From this Boredom
View Online

War is Hell(ishly Boring)

Only the Un-enlisted Can Know Peace From this Boredom

Jack Durdlewitz was just a regular soldier in the battlefield. If he knew what it was like when shit hit the fan, he would have never enlisted. He and his buddies ducked behind the cover of a concrete road rail. Bullets were flying, missiles were exploding, guys were screaming, and haters were hating. Amid the chaos, there could be heard a terrorist yelling "ALALALALALALALA", followed by an explosion.

"Hammer 3-1-15-7-5 Bingo is down!" a voice rang through his headset. "Squad, move onto checkpoint Charlie-Zulu-Alpha-Beta-Gamma-Johnny Bravo!"

"You heard the man! Let's mo-" Corporal Fibley yelled, before a bullet exploded his head. His blood and brain matter splattered into the rest of their faces.

"Ew, yucky, brain got in my mouth!" the squad's gay soldier, Private Toggaf whined.

"It makes you feel alive, doesn't it?" Private Bewerly smiled wickedly, licking the gore off of his upper lip. "Mmm, yummy yum yum in my tummy tum tum."

"Enough chatter, men. We gotta get to that checkpoint." their black sergeant commanded.

"Yes sir!" the rest yelled.

They sprinted from the cover of the road rail to an office building on the other side of the street. Further down the road, snipers were doing 720 no-scopes off second story balconies. One sniper killed a terrorist, and promptly started tea-bagging his corpse. Durdlewitz looked on in horror. Bewerly laughed. Toggaf got hard.

Inside the office building, there were at least 100 terrorists waiting.

"Durka durka! Mohammed Jihad!" their leader yelled. He threw a grenade at the squad.

"Ew gross, a grenade! Take it back." Private Toggaf squealed, throwing the grenade back at the terrorists.

It exploded magnificently, killing all the terrorists. And a few civilians, but that's CNN's problem now.

Outside the office building, a trench was dug in the dirt. The squad crouched down inside. Another squad was also in the trench.

"Seargent Jackson! We're glad to see you!" said the other squad's leader.

"What's going on?" Sergeant asked.

"These butt-fuckers have us pinned! We gotta get to checkpoint Charlie-Zulu-Alpha-Beta-Gamma-Johnny Bravo!"

"That's where we're headed."

"Good! Maybe you can help-"

"ALALALALALALALALA!" a terrorist jumped into the trench and put the other squad's leader in a bear hug.

"Oh tits! He has a bomb on his chest!"

"Shiiiii-"

*BOOM!*

"He's dead! Beautiful!" Bewerly shouted. "What now sarge?"

"Now we shimmy on down to the checkpoint! Move out!" Sergeant stood up and turned around, only to be shot in the torso. He fell to the ground, and Durdlewitz ran to his side.

"Sarge!"

"Tell my watermelon... I love it." the man said in his dying breath.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Durdlewitz yelled into the sky.

"YEEEEES!" God called back.

"You bastards!" Bewerly shouted at the terrorists, standing up and blindly firing his light machine gun in the baddies' general direction.

"Mortars, you guys!" Toggaf shouted.

The whistling of the falling mortars became apparent, and one landed next to Bewerly. The explosion sent him flying high into the air.

"I'm going to the MOOOOOOON!" Bewerly yelled in delight, until he could no longer be seen.

"Oh, Durdlewitz. It's just you and me now." Toggaf said in a singsong voice, smiling naughtily.

"Watch out!" Durdlewitz yelled.

An RPG rocket impacted Toggaf in the chest, causing his body parts to fly in every direction. An arm flew towards the terrorists. His head flew towards the office building. And his gay nutsack soared into Durdlewit's face.

Durdlewitz screamed and removed the scrotum from his face.

"Durdlewitz!" said the genitals.

"Huh?" he said confusedly.

"Durdlewitz!" the testicles yelled again.

"But... you're a nutsack. Nutsacks can't talk."

"Durdlewitz!!!"

He woke up suddenly from his odd dream.

"Durdlewitz! Get your ass in gear!" Sergeant Jackson ordered. "Call me a nutsack again, and you'll be pushing till you puke."

Durdlewitz got up slowly out of bed. Bewerly was stretching a few feet away.

"Good morning, sunshine." Bewerly said sarcastically. "We got some newbies coming in today."

"Huh? Oh yeah, I forgot that was today."

Some more trucks full of new troops was set to arrive this afternoon. Those poor bastards. They thought they would lead a hero's life in Afghanistan. Their heads carried dreams of killing bad guys and saving innocents. Those poor, naive, free-college-wanting bastards. Little did they know, they would be spending months in the deepest recesses of hell. Days would be spent drilling and cleaning. Nights would be spent sitting and talking, with little more than a deck of cards between comrades. This wasn't Saving Private Ryan. It was more like Catcher in the Rye-- a mediocre thing with more yawning than an M Night Shyamalan showing.

This was war.

War was this.

War was tits.

Thor was grits.

Sorry about that. In Afghanistan, you play little word games to keep you entertained. And sane.

"Bewerly, Durdlewitz, get out here." Private Toggaf yelled. "They're showing clips of than UN meeting with the horse queen, or whatever her name is."

"You mean Celestia?" Bewerly called back.

"Yeah, that broad."

Durdlewitz and Bewerly trudged over to the small television outside of the barracks. A small group of other soldiers gathered around. On the TV, a dark blue pony stood at the podium, talking into a microphone. It's hair seemed to be blowing to one side, even though the meeting was inside.

"That's not Celestia. That's Luna, you idiot."

"Well hell if I know." Toggaf replied.

"Both of you, quiet down." ordered Jackson.

They listened close to the pony speaking.

"In the alliance of our races-- Ponies, and Humans-- we recognize the threats to thy world as threats to our own. These insurgents, which thou callest Mujahideen, will see Our ponies' existence as an offense towards their overzealous practices. The threat of these insurgents is as great a danger to us as it is to thy species, and it does not fail to keep ponies from visiting your world, making it harder for our races to form the bonds which are so crucial to lasting friendship between us. It is because of Our desire for that friendship, and only for the desire of friendship, do we fight side-by-side with thou in the field of battle. With permission from the leaders of this organization, we will send troops into Afghanistan, effective immediately. The camaraderie shared between pony and Human soldiers will solidify the bonds that will form a strong and lasting friendship between our great worlds."

The UN chamber burst into applause.

"Thank you, and may the stars protect you."

The clip ended, and Bill O'Reilly appeared on the screen.

"I don't know about you, but that sounds like Pony socialism to me." said the senile commentator with a smug grin.

"Aw dude, turn that shit off." Corporal Fibley cringed. Toggaf pressed the off button.

"So we're gonna have some ponies here soon." Bewerly looked around at his mostly approving comrades.

"Guess so."

"What was all that crap about the stars protecting us? I have a gun to protect me. I don't need any damn stars to twinkle our enemies to death." said Toggaf.

"Try not to insult our new friends too much." Jackson said to the disgruntled private.

"I'm just saying, it sounds kinda gay." he replied, much to the aggravation of his peers.

"Save it, Toggaf. Everyone knows you're gay. Just come out with it. Nobody cares."

"For the last time, I'm not gay. I'm straight! I like women."

"Just as long as that woman has a dick." Bewerly mumbled to Durdlewitz, who promptly chuckled at the joke.

"Dude, I do not like dicks! Listen to me carefully. I. Like. Vagi-"

"Hey guys, the new troops are here!" yelled Fibley from behind a building near the front of the base.

The rest of the squad ran to where the truck was pulling in. There was some excitement building among the group. They watched in anticipation to see if their new-found allies were as they imagined them. The truck doors opened to reveal several ponies who were not yet armed. Most of them were stallions, a few of them were mares. All of them were nervous. The groups excitement, while unwaned, turned to slight confusion.

Durdlewitz was the first to speak up.

"They're so... small." he noticed most of them were only half his size.

"They're so... adorable!" said Fibley. "Permission to hug them, sir."

"Permission denied, Corporal. Keep this professional." Sergeant Jackson told Fibley. He walked over to the new recruits, who saluted the tall Human.

"So you're who Luna sent?"

"Yes sir!" they yelled in unison.

"Hmm. Toggaf, direct them to first sergeant Biscuitson. He'll debrief them and then they can get into uniform."

"Yessir." private Toggaf led them to a building close by. Sergeant Jackson walked off to do some stuff that serious black soldiers with hard exteriors, but a heart of gold, normally do. Probably jerk off, but who's to say?

"So what do you guys think of the ponies?" asked Durdlewitz.

"They're aaight." replied Bewerly with a shrug.

"They are the cutest fucking things I have ever seen in my entire life." Fibley said.

"Even the males?" Bewerly asked.

"Dude, c'mon. I'm not Toggaf."

The three chuckled and went about their duties. That night, the squad learned that they would be bunking with the ponies. It was a good opportunity for Durdlewitz, Bewerly, and Toggaf to show them how to keep themselves entertained, and a good opportunity for Fibley's smile to envelop his face.

Sweet mother of God. Durdlewitz had no idea how fast things would turn to shit. It was chaos. Fibley was down in less than a few minutes. The poor guy never saw it coming. One of the ponies put up a valiant fight, but nonetheless, he was next to fall.

"Durdlewitz." Bewerly called to him. "You gotta move!"

"What?"

"You gotta move, man. Move!"

"Oh, right. Uh, do you have a 3?"

"Nope. Go fish."

"Damn." he said, picking up another card.

The squad and a few of the new pony enlistees were sitting in a barracks playing a card game. It was dark out, and they should have been getting some sleep, but it was the only time of the day when they could relax.

The ponies were a little confused following their arrival. All they saw was sand. Miles and miles of sand. This game of "go fish" was the most exciting thing they'd done that day. It wasn't nearly the king of scene Luna made it out to be. They weren't terrified. They were bored. Were they even in the right place? Their map said they were in Afghanistan, but so far they weren't seeing any dire threat against pony kind.

This wasn't a real-time casualty report.

This was real life.

This was real fife.

Tits was meal chife.

Clits was teal knife.

Ponies learned word games fast. Wait, chife's not a word... Fuck!

"So, how are you ponies liking scenic Afghanistan?" Bewerly asked, looking up from his hand of cards.

"It's okay, I guess. There's not much to do out here. I thought there would be more fighting, and less cards." a pony by the name of Iron Gut replied.

"You'll get used to it. Card games are going to be about the closest thing to conflict you'll see here for a while."

The ponies thought about that, and were unsure what to think.

"So uh, just wondering," said Fibley. "Do you mind if I rub your fur? Just a little?"

Another pony, Vigilant Shield rolled his eyes. "Go ahead." he stuck out a foreleg.

Fibley, with a big smile on his face, reached out to rub the stallion's foreleg. He gasped while gently rubbing up and down.

"You're even fuzzier than I thought!" Fibley exclaimed jubilantly.

"C'mon Fibley! I swear, you're even gayer than Toggaf." Durdlewitz smirked in Toggaf's direction.

"Dude, fuck you." Toggaf replied.

The group shared a laugh at Toggaf's expense. Their card game went uninterrupted for a couple more minutes until the third pony, Jabberjapple, spoke up.

"So, have any of you Humans killed anybody in this war?" he said. The others in the group looked up at him. The Humans took a serious glance at each other for a moment, and back at Jabberjapple,

Bewerly licked his teeth and looked down at his cards, setting them face-down on the table. He took a deep breath and looked up at the pony, who seemed extremely nervous.

"Jabberjapple," he calmly said. He leaned in close, so that his face was inches from the pony's. "there's one question you never ask a soldier; you never ask a soldier."

Jabberjapple's forelegs were shaking, his face stiff as a brick.

"Do you know what that question is?" Bewerly glared into the pony's eyes, and raised his voice. "Well, do you?!"

"Uh... I... I"

"You never, ever, ever," he said. "ask a soldier if he's a homosexual."

The pony's fear became confusion.

"If you don't ask, Toggaf won't tell." he broke into a smirk. Everyone except the poor, scared pony laughed. Even Toggaf chuckled, though it was more at Jabberjapple's expense than anything. Durdlewits patted him on the back, reassuring him he wasn't going to die.

"Hahaha. Wooo, but seriously, don't ask a soldier if he's killed anyone. Unless you like bloody lips."

"Bloody lips? When did the topic change to periods?" said Toggaf. The rest of the Humans facepalmed.

"Dude, gross." stated Fibley.

"There's really something wrong with you."

"Haha, I love you guys." Toggaf replied.

And much fun was had that night. Laughs were shared between Ponies and Humans. But no amount of fun could prepare them for the next day.

It was a beautiful morning in the Army base the next day. Durdlewitz was talking with Fibley and Iron Gut. Vigilant Shield was avoiding Fibley for the time being. The three comrades walked on the sand to no destination in particular.

"So there's an actual city named Baltimare?" Fibley asked in amazement.

"Yep. We also have a Los Pegasus, and a Manehattan."

"No shit?" Durdlewitz remarked.

"No shit. You think that's crazy? We have factories in the sky that make rainbows."

"What?" Fibley said increduously. "No you don't."

"Yeah we do."

"What are they made of, then?"

"Uhhh, well, they-"

BOOM

A loud explosion came from the East side of the base. Someone ran out from behind a building in that direction.

"Get over here! Shit just hit the fan!" he yelled.

The three ran over to where the chaos was. Durdlewitz couldn't believe it. Actual combat! He'd been waiting 2 years to actually do something he was here to do in the first place. The feelings were equal in Fibley. The pony with them wasn't as excited, but he didn't know what it was like to wait and wait to actually serve your country after you enlisted for that exact reason. Their excitement carried on, even intensified, as they got closer to where shit was going down.

They turned the corner to face the scene. Their excitement turned to instant horror. Durdlewitz had always heard war was hell, but he never expected this. This was beyond hell. This was like Mel Gibson and Barbara Streisand had babies and hell became their orphanage.

Shit was everywhere. Everywhere.

"What the hell happened?" Sergeant Jackson caught up to investigate the loud noise.

"Sir, it was crazy. The truck carrying the porta-potties; it didn't have the stalls secured, and they all just fell over." Bewerly said. Toggaf was staring agape at the disgusting scene.

"Sweet Jesus! That smell is terrible." Sergeant replied.

"Why did you say shit hit the fan?" Durdlewitz asked with irritation.

"All the stuff from the toilets spilled onto our barracks' only fan." he replied.

The group looked over to where the fan sat. And true enough, to their disgust, the fan sat in a medley of Human waste.

"Gross."

"Why was it outside?" asked Iron gut.

"We were hot." Bewerly shrugged.

Sergeant Jackson face-palmed for a moment. "Okay, someone needs to clean this up. Toggaf, instead of staring with your thumb up your ass, go get a mop and get busy."

"Goddammit." Toggaf grumped as he walked into the barracks for a mop.

"Everyone else, there's nothing to see here. Nobody's dead, you don't have to stand around gawking."

Out of nowhere, like clockwork, Sergeant Jackson's head exploded, leaving Durdlewitz, Bewerly, and Fibley mortified as their commanding officer's fragmented cranium burst into their faces.

Behind the fallen Sergeant was Barack Obama, wielding a shotgun that was smoking from the barrel.

"Obama?"

"Fuck you, troops!" he yelled, sending bullets into the soldiers gathered round.

"Motherfuckas betta know!"

Bettafuckas mother know!

Betabuckers butter snow!

Babyfuckers butter glow!

Author's Note

Okay, this turned out to be a bit more surreal than I originally intended it to be. Depicting war as realistic is just plain boring to read. And write. Maybe war stories are meant to be chaotic and impossible. Therefore, I apologize to all you Call of Duty fanfic writers out there who I've picked on over the months. Well... actually, no I don't. Your stories still suck.